


I Put the Sin in Sincerity

by Lacadaisiac (Wes)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Coming In Pants, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Not Really Romantic Relationship, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 21:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14986445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wes/pseuds/Lacadaisiac
Summary: (Add. Tags: I struggled so hard to tag this right, bro I don't even know, am I proud of this? yes, do I think this is a quality addition to the fandom? no, do I regret this? not yet, is mind/mood altering substances the right tag for demonic 'curses', I also call it a curse but really it's just the effect of the demon, suspend some disbelief here, listen I love making OCs and have no shame in it, OCs are fun to make you guys are just mean, jk jk jk but please forgive me, honestly if you really don't want to read this as an OC then just read it as Nero lmao)Dante has some spare time after finishing up a mission, and sensing both a demon and his current sort-of business partner Clear nearby, decides to go check on him. He finds that Clear got in a little too over his head, and Dante takes it upon himself to look after the kid.





	I Put the Sin in Sincerity

**Author's Note:**

> where do I fucking start 
> 
> Bros I'm so hype for DMC 5 I honestly can not waIT for it to be equally terrible and amazing, I'm so hype for Reboot!Nero and I'm anticipating "slam dunk" so hard I've already made memes. 
> 
> Please understand I love DMC in all shapes and forms, even the shitty DmC reboot holy hell. 
> 
> So of course I had to make OCs lmf aO Because what do I do when I love a series I just make fucking OCs for it I have no self-restraint. Ship them with canon characters? Why fucking not, who's gonna stop me. 
> 
> Me apparently, it's not really even a ship thing. 
> 
> Anyway from here on I'm just talking about Clear, so like I said if you don't wanna read it as an OC just read it as Nero lm aO I'm putting most of my blabbing in the notes so they're easier to skip than just finding it in the story. 
> 
> So basically Clear is a full-human devil hunter, within the same occupation as Dante. Because he's human he can't use Devil Arms, so this is where the other OC mentioned in this fic, Dimitri, comes in: Dimitri is a Devil Arms Technician, who runs a shop called Arms Race where he creates Arms out of devil parts/weapons and human tech that are able to be used by humans. They live and work together out of a warehouse, where Dimitri brings in half their rent by selling his arms and Clear brings in the other half by taking odd jobs around the city/on the outskirts of it. He also doubles as a field tester for Dimitri's prototypes LOL
> 
> Clear's name also isn't really Clear, it's actually Jason Cassius but I need to solidify a reason for why he changes it. It has to do with his backstory, which is like a whole big thing that I need to 100% write out but the gist of it is basically:  
> \- shitty fam  
> \- ran away and was picked up by another devil hunter  
> \- devil hunter made him get a really lit but super twisted tattoo infused with devil's blood, which Clear didn't know about  
> \- hunter made Clear kill him, after training him for some years  
> \- Clear was picked up by Dimitri's family and lived with them for a while. Some shit happened and they were killed, Clear and Dimitri managed to escape but just barely.  
> \- the two ended up in the same unnamed city Devil May Cry is located, and used the rest of their money/money from odd jobs they took to rent their current warehouse and open Arms Race. 
> 
> Currently Clear is about 22. Dimitri is a year younger than him and they've known each other for 4-5 years. Clear changed his name after Dimitri's family died, so some time around when the got to the city. The two of them deal exclusively to humans, and if I ever write out a full fanfic for them honestly a side-conflict would center around the hunters they sell too. The main conflict would revolve around a weapon Dimitri was forced to make that could permanently kill Dante, which is why he and Clear start working together in the first place lol 
> 
> Clear's tattoo is special because the ink is laced with the blood of a devil. Crimson in color, it's a full sleeve of tattoos on his left from his wrist to his shoulder, that sparkles black when it's activated. It's a thirsty little flower and absorbs blood that touches it, which temporarily gives Clear small boosts of speed/strength/stamina/or other small abilities related to the devil it absorbs blood from. A lot of times he's perceived as not entirely human, even though it's very obvious he is lol Also as a fun idea, his tattoo absorbing some of Dante's blood gives Clear something similar to Nero's Devil Bringer/Devil Trigger, which I want to explore more but it's a fun idea to mess around with! 
> 
> Anyway this is basically like, a mission gone wrong for Clear and it's mainly self-indulgent shit because I absolutely love to make my OCs suffer in any way possible ahhahah It's just an idea that's been swirling around in my head for a while so I decided to write it out and actually ended up really liking it. 
> 
> I'll just get to it now haha If you read through all of this, thanks, and enjoy hopefully looooool

He’s never seen the kid like this before, so needy, or wanton, or _vulnerable_. Dante knows pride when he sees it, and knows that this kid’s lost all sense of it. He’s on his knees, pupils blown and eyes half-lidded, tongue practically hanging from his mouth as he pants like a dog. 

That devil really did a number on him. The Clear that Dante’s gotten to know in the last few months would have had a snappy remark prepared for him right now, might already be trying take a stab at him. But this Clear... This Clear on the floor is vastly different. Dante takes a step forward, one hand resting loosely on Ebony, as he calls out the kid’s name.

His eyes turn slowly to Dante. He seems vacant and almost not-there, until his face suddenly brightens. Humans are entirely too susceptible to devils' spells, and Clear doesn’t seem to be any different, even when his tattoo is visibly pulsing with black and writhing against his skin. Well... Maybe the tattoo’s making him react to something in absorbed too. Dante halts and takes a small shuffle back. He keeps his eyes trained on Clear, noting the way he leans back a little and licks his lower lip before starting to nibble at it. This won’t end pretty.

“Dante...” Clear all but moans his name. He bares himself, exposing his neck, his wrists, even spreading his thighs just enough for Dante to see a prominent bulge. His skin is flushed pink, and he looks so delirious and vulnerable on the floor there, it’s absolutely dangerous. He’s honestly glad he was the one who found Clear, and not some other sleazy hunter who’d be more indulgent in taking advantage of him.

“Calm down, kid. You’re under the influence of a devil,” Dante starts, inching a little closer. He has no intention of shooting Clear lethally, and is hesitant to do so at all, but still keeps a hand on his gun for good measure. From the way Clear’s acting makes him assume the devil was a Lust of some sort, but in case it’s a different type he feels like he should be ready. Clear’s eyes flick from his face to hand on Ebony, and his mouth drops open again.

“It reminds me if when we first met. When you _pinned_ me down and _crushed_ your guns to my throat. If you did it again I might get off on it,” Clear muses, leaning forward onto his knees. The motion makes his clothing shift, his shirt falling to cover his stomach, but on his own Clear tugs his jacket down as best he can.

“I’m wearing too much. Can you help me get it off?”

Oh, that quiet voice he’s using is positively sinful. It takes Dante everything he has not to be affected, only swallowing once and shaking his head to be rid of any thoughts.

“Not part of the job description,” Dante cooly replies, instead sweeping forward to where Clear is. He fully intends to restrain Clear if he needs, but getting him back to Arms Race seems like the best option; at least there Dimitri can watch out for him. Clear looks up at Dante from behind his lashes, barely hesitating before reaching out to grab his coat. He tugs gently, as if he’s trying to get Dante to come closer to him.

“Please... Dante, please, I’m so... I need something—I need you right now, please...” he jerks forward again, one hand tugging Dante’s coat, the other scrabbling at his leg. Dante startles mid-crouch and nearly falls at the sudden movement, regaining balance quickly while Clear latches onto him. He goes straight for Dante’s belt before Dante shoves him back with his leg. It’s too unnerving to see Clear, usually so haughty and prideful, reduced to a begging wrecked mess on the floor. He looks almost like he’s crying. Clear rolls onto his back, exposing himself to Dante. The way he arches up just so is a clear display of submission, his eyes following Dante’s every move as he leans down again and goes to pick him up.

Clear absolutely whines. He squirms at Dante’s touches, panting and turning his head away to show his neck. There’s something primal in the way he moves, something almost _devil_  about it, that very obviously comes from the Lust’s spell. His eyes flick between Dante and off to somewhere else, his body pliant as he’s maneuvered into Dante’s arms and picked up. Clear seems to be struggling to breathe now, gasping and panting like the minimal touches through clothing are setting him on fire. His hand, the one not trapped against Dante’s torso, comes up to rest on the junction of his neck and shoulder, squeezing tightly as Dante starts to walk away.

He starts rambling. “I’m glad it was you who found me. If anyone else saw me like this, I’d be _humiliated_. They’d probably have pinned me down, ripped my clothing off... _ravaged_ me right there without a second thought. You’d only do that if I asked, right? If I got on my knees and begged you to? You’d fuck me so hard I’d see _stars_ , so hard I couldn’t move for a week right? Dante, ple—“

“You’re under the influence of a devil,” Dante cuts him off. “And you’re too stubborn to beg me anyway.”

It makes him almost sick, actually, hearing the way Clear speaks to him. What he had said... thinking about anyone else finding him first sets off a protective urge in him. It makes his blood boil to think that there are people in the world who’d have taken advantage of his vulnerability and drunken state. And Clear’s too young, in his opinion, to be throwing himself at anyone’s feet for sex. Older than Dante was, certainly, but still too young. It’s easy to tune out Clear’s whimpers and whines as he makes his way back to the city, easy to push him away when he tries to nibble Dante’s neck and plead for it. He wonders how long Clear is going to be like this, and thinks maybe it’s better to take him back to Devil May Cry instead, so he doesn’t throw himself at Dimitri is his haze.

Dante does just that. He heads towards his own shop and kicks the door both open and closed, and plops Clear down on the couch. Before he can try to scramble off, Dante takes both his wrists and pins them above Clear’s head, doing his best to use his jacket to bind him. Clear giggles—he’s never giggled as long as Dante’s known him—at that and relaxes into Dante’s touch, testing the bonds with a few gentle tugs.

“Mmm, I think I like being tied up,” Clear says, smiling softly at Dante. “Taking me back to your shop first is romantic, I didn’t take you for the type.”

“It’s so you don’t try to move. I’m gonna get you some things, if you’re a good boy and stay here I’ll reward you,” Dante says, fixing a warm gaze on Clear. It’s easy enough to act when he isn’t going to follow through, and when they’re in a safe space behind locked doors. Clear practically purrs and shifts his hips slightly, nodding his agreement. Dante pulls away and he’s not surprised when Clear doesn’t move. 

He leaves his coat hanging over the back of his chair, and Rebellion and his guns on his desk. First he gets water. Food can come after, maybe in the morning when Clear’s in a better mood for it. Dante also gathers a pillow and a blanket from his room on the second floor, surprised that he even has spares lying around. He returns to Clear and leaves the bedding at the end of the couch, keeping the water in his hands. 

“Sit up a little, you need this,” Dante commands, offering up the glass. Clear looks at it, then levels his gaze on Dante and says, “why don’t you just give it to me, mouth to mouth?”

Dante sighs and shakes his head. “I’ve never heard you so desperate in your life. Sit up, come on.”

He manages to help a huffy, hard, denied Clear sit up and drink the liquid. The spell must be wearing off if he’s starting to get impatient, a victim under a Lust’s spell is willing to wait for anything. Clear downs the whole glass in one foul swoop, his breath still coming to him quickly but nowhere near like his panting before. He seems a little more level now, sitting his his hands bound in his lap as he looks at Dante. 

“You’re too kind, you know,” he finally says after a moment of silence. “You must be aching, and yet...” Clear wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “That’s... not what I meant to say...” 

“You’re under the spell of a devil,” Dante tells him one more time, now that he’s conscious enough to hear it. He pats Clear’s shoulder as he stands and says, “we’ll go over it in the morning.”

Before he can get too far, Clear calls him back.

“Can you... help me? One last thing.” 

“Kid, I’m not gonna—“ 

“I don’t want you to fuck me,” Clear says quickly, not looking at him. There he is, coming back.

“Then what?” Dante asks, and returns to the couch. Clear looks at him a little too quickly, the spell isn’t all gone and probably won’t be for another couple hours, but it seems like he’s recovering enough to be rational and that’s all Dante needs.

“Just touch me. I...” Clear stumbles his words and flushes bright red, looking away. “I need to get off, but I don’t think I can do it on my own. It’d... it’d feel better if someone else did it.”

Dante quirks an eyebrow. Clear meets his eyes for a second, pupils still blown wide, and then looks away again. There’s a tenseness in his shoulders that Dante understands as shyness, and in all honesty it really is cute. Dante runs a hand through his own hair and sighs, leveling a harsh stare. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Clear bites his lip and nods. 

“Then say it. Tell me if you want it.”

“No kissing. Nothing below the belt.” Clear nods again. Then, “I want it.” 

“Okay.” Dante also nods at him, taking Clear’s wrists in his hand again. He guides him down to the couch and releases his hands when they’re above him, gently tracing down his arms to his shoulders, then to his chest. He pets Clear’s sides through his shirt, noting the way his eyes close and his breath hitches in his chest. Dante’s devil half can smell his arousal clearly, mixed with both anxiety and shame. This is closer to the Clear Dante knows, who hides himself and refuses to meet Dante’s eyes when he’s flustered. As if to soothe him, Dante leans down and noses at his neck, lips gently sucking at the flesh. Clear jolts and lets out a small noise at that, squirming under Dante as he moves closer to his ear.

Dante licks behind Clear’s lobe and the unabashed moan that tumbles from his lips is evidence enough. Dante’s hands slip under his shirt and roam his torso, making Clear wriggle under him even more. The feelings must still be amplified by the spell, making him even more sensitive to touch. His voice comes out high and broken between moans, stuttering as he tries to form words.

“Dan—Dante, it’s too much, it feels like too much—d-don’t do anything there, please please please—“

“Where,” Dante breathes against his ear. Clear convulses under him, rolling up into his hands. Dante moves to his pecs now, squeezing the flesh gently.

“Th-there...”

“Here?” Dante tweaks a nipple between his fingers. Clear bites his lip and shakes his head ‘no,’ eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched tight. Dante nips the shell of his ear, then whispers, “or here?” and licks behind his ear again.

Clear jerks at the small touch and keens high in his throat. Dante chuckles at him and continues to touch his chest and sides, nibbling Clear’s jaw instead. Clear had said no kissing, and as much as Dante loves kissing he won’t do anything Clear objects to. Instead, he moves down Clear’s neck to his collar, licking and nipping but never leaving marks, while his fingers continue to play with Clear’s nipples. As he gets further down the center of his chest, Clear’s breath comes faster. Dante can feel the rapid rise and fall, and the speedy beat of his heart under his palm. He’s reserved for sure, holding himself back as best he can, and though Dante can still smell his arousal getting stronger, his shame is growing as well. Dante pauses over his heart.

“You don’t have to feel bad about this,” he says. Clear’s breath hitches and he looks at Dante.

“I’m not—I don’t—“

“I can smell it on you,” Dante replies with a small smirk, and taps his nose with a finger. “It’s normal to ask for this.” 

Clear bites his lip, opens his mouth and then closes it again. He finally settles for, “it’s weird.”

“Not really. It happens all the time. You shouldn’t be ashamed about needing something, or someone’s help, even if it’s with something like this.”

Clear stares at him for a long while. He hesitates, searching Dante’s features for something, but all Dante gives him is sincerity. He means what he says, and he hopes Clear can see that. He bites his lip again and moves his eyes away. The next thing he says is so quiet Dante almost misses it.

“You always know what to say.”

And then in a blur of motion, Clear frees his wrists and grabs Dante’s face, pulling him up into a kiss that’s so bruising and quick their teeth click painfully. Dante sinks into it quickly, cursing himself for being too eager but Clear seems to be glad when he takes the lead. Dante braces himself against the couch and leans into Clear’s body, lapping at his mouth. Clear reciprocates, but what he lacks in experience he makes up for with determination, following Dante’s movements with his tongue and holding him so close Dante swears their heartbeats sync.

When he breaks the kiss, Clear is positively wrecked. His tongue nearly hangs out of his mouth and his eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed so darkly that it’s visible in the dim light of the shop. He holds Dante’s face for a while longer, as if considering him and what just happened, and then leans back and releases him in one fluid movement.

“I’m close,” Clear finally says, covering his face with his arms. “Really close.”

Dante mumbles an okay, still shocked and reeling from what Clear just did. Clear rolls his hips as if to remind Dante if the task at hand, his own hand coming down to touch. He’s biting his lip now, as his fist clenches against his thigh, still shy in front if Dante even if they’ve come this far.

“Touch yourself. I won’t look,” Dante tells him, and then punctuates his point by latching his lips around one of Clear’s nipples and licking at it. Clear gasps at the contact, starting to writhe as Dante continues to touch his stomach, his sides, even daring to hold his hips. Clear’s skin is hot to the touch, radiating through Dante’s clothing where they’re in close contact. Between them, he feels Clear’s hand tentatively shift, to palm himself through his jeans. There’s a long moment where Clear is silent, arching his chest up into Dante’s lips when he switches sides and nips him, but his moan is a frustrated one. Clear’s other hand tugs at Dante’s hair.

“What is it,” he mumbles without looking up, though he pauses his ministrations.

Clear hesitates, and then returns, “I can’t... I need...” he pauses, exhales, then hisses, “I lied.”

Still holding Dante’s hair, he grips one hand with his free one and guides it down to his crotch. Instantly Clear rolls into his palm, moaning behind clenched teeth at the friction. Dante glances up at his face but continues where Clear left off, palming him and squeezing him though his jeans. With each motion Clear squirms and rolls his hips, twitching as he gets closer and closer to the end. His hands tighten around Dante’s wrist and in his hair, his voice far from restrained as he whines and groans whatever seems to come to his mind. Dante can’t help it when Clear starts to mumble apologies; he surges up and kisses him again, squeezes his hand a little harder, and like that Clear’s finished.

He moans into Dante’s mouth, tugging his hair with the residual devil strength left in his tattooed arm. His body convulses, then rolls, his hips twitching as he cums in his jeans. Dante can feel the moistness soon after, removing his hand to massage Clear’s hip.

“So much for those requests,” Dante jokes as he breaks the kiss. Clear bristles a bit but doesn’t say anything, clearly basking in the afterglow. Dante huffs and smiles at him, pulling away. He looks absolutely drained, and not up for anything else by a long shot. 

“You can take a shower here and wash your clothes in the morning. Get some rest, kid,” he says, and ruffles Clear’s hair when he walks away.

Dante shuts his room door when he gets there, and sheds the rest of his clothing before flopping onto his bed. He finds himself half-hard, but even as he touches himself he can’t think of Clear in any sexual way. Part of him can’t wait to see his reaction in the morning when they talk about this, but a larger part of him just hopes that he hasn’t lost a valued ally. The kid’s strong, and his partner, Dimitri, is invaluable for his creations, and Dante could always use more helping hands. But things like this tend to drive people apart, and though he trusts Clear to be rational, he can’t help but think about the opposite side of the coin.

As he drifts off, he notes that Clear’s smell wafting through the shop is different now. Where there was once arousal and shame mixing, now there’s only worry, fear, but also... contentedness. Dante smiles to himself, things will be okay. 

* * *

Dante wakes up quietly the next morning. He sits up and stretches, his shoulders and back popping loudly into the quiet of his room. When he glances at the clock he sees it’s only 11 AM, much earlier than he’s woken up at all in the past week. Scratching his head and mussing his hair up even more, he recounts what happened the previous night, and he realizes that leaving his room stark naked is probably not a good plan, so he finds some clothes and throws those on. Loose sweats and a T-shirt are good enough. He exits his room to find Clear and see if the kid wants breakfast. 

Clear’s downstairs in his usual v-neck, but he has a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is wet, flattened from it’s usual spiky ponytail to the back of his head, the longer strands loose down his back. He has his back to Dante, grumbling to himself about something he can’t quite make out.

“Mornin’, kid,” Dante calls, smirking when Clear startles and stands up ramrod straight. He spins around while holding the towel in one hand, looking anywhere but Dante.

“Hey,” he says after a moment. “Didn’t think you’d be up.”

“Surprised myself too,” Dante chuckles as he heads towards the kitchen. “Want some breakfast?”

“As long as it’s not stale pizza,” Clear says with the barest hint of sarcasm to his tone.

“Ouch, no luck on that front. Stale pizza it is.” Dante serves them both two slices. He uses the microwave to warm them and leaves the box out in case they want seconds. As he brings the now warmed plates out to the main room, he doesn't immediately see Clear, wondering if he up and left already. No, the door didn't open or close, and though Dante would find it hilarious, he knows Clear would never be the type to leave with just a towel tied around his waist. So he's still in the shop. Somewhere. 

Placing the plates on a free space on his desk, he calls out Clear's name. There's not an immediate answer but he smells a spike of anxiety that's obviously from the other hunter. Maybe things weren't going to go as well as he'd thought. Instead of actively seeking out Clear, he just calls, "were you looking for the washer?" 

Another hesitation, then, "yes." 

"I'll start a load. Just leave what you want on the couch and come eat." 

Dante takes the chance to move at least Rebellion off the desk, and plop down in his desk chair so he can kick his feet up. As he gets comfortable he realizes he's forgotten to grab his pizza; he doesn't want to move, and it's too far to reach without kicking it off the desk. What Clear comes back to is him reaching his hand out and grunting, trying to use The Force to bring the plate closer. 

"P... Pizza..." Dante says, straining his fingers. He looks to Clear with pleading eyes. "Pizza..." 

Clear levels  _that_ look at him, the disappointed and annoyed one that asks how they're business partners, but still sighs and passes him the plate. He takes the other one and returns to the couch, putting his bundled up jeans on the floor next to the foot of it. Before biting into one of the slices, Clear wrinkles his nose. 

"There's no olives." 

Dante stops mid-bite to balk at him. 

"Of course there's no olives." 

"But olives are a staple on pizza," Clear argues, shaking his head while judgmentally eyeing Dante. "That's just common knowledge." 

"Consider our partnership over," Dante shoots back. He doesn't really mean it since he still needs Clear to find that damn scythe for him, but for a moment he really almost does. Clear just rolls his eyes back and begins to eat, leaving them chewing in content silence. 

After Dante finishes both slices of his and goes back for seconds, Clear finally starts on his second slice. He seems to be lost in thought with the way his eyes go a little cloudy. It gives Dante pause, realizing that he does need to bring up yesterday, and now seems like a good time. He puts his plate down and full sits up, leaning his elbows on his desk. 

“So about last night.” 

Clear startles out of his thoughts. He flushes deep red and buries his face in his food. When he hits the crust he gives pause after taking a bite and wrinkles his nose up again, though he holds the plate like he can hide behind it. Dante quirks an eyebrow—the kid likes olives but doesn't like crusts? Picky, picky.

"What about it..." Clear says quietly, turning away and trying to play it cool. He's already failed but Dante gives him props for sticking to his laurels. 

"How much do you remember?" 

Clear visibly relaxes, though still doesn't turn to face him. "I don't know. I remember the k..." Clear's ears color. He changes his word with a stutter, "Couch... but everything before that is hazy. That devil I fought must've done something to me." 

"It did alright. It was a Lust you fought, and I guess you just got ensnared in it's web." Dante leans back again in his chair. "So you remember asking me for help?" 

"I told you it was hazy—" 

"Do you or don't you?" 

"I—yeah. Enough of it." Clear hunches his shoulders. Dante almost feels how weary Clear is of this, how anxious he is and how ashamed of his own weakness he feels. He wants to say something, Dante can tell, but he doesn't push it because the kid's been through a lot and Dante's not about to make him feel worse. 

"I said you don't have to feel bad," he finally settles for. 

"I don't feel—" 

"We went through this yesterday, I can tell. Clear." Dante barely ever uses his name. That gets him to look over. "It's okay." 

Clear wasn't using him. Dante knows that he wouldn't have asked if he could help it. He knows that Clear feels terrible that Dante saw him at one of his weakest moments. He knows he's frustrated with himself for not being prepared, not protecting himself, not fighting harder. Dante's been there, albeit under different circumstances, but has been there nonetheless. It's frustrating, and painful, and it's a dent to someone's pride. 

And of course, haughty, self-assured, confident Clear would take it the hardest. 

"I haven't lost any respect for you kid," Dante says after letting Clear digest. "I told you that it's normal. You're a human, of course a devil's spell would hit you hard. Even the most trained hunters couldn't withstand something like that. If anything, I'm impressed you returned to yourself as quickly as you did." 

When Clear doesn't respond, Dante stands and rounds the desk. He gathers Clear's discarded jeans and heads towards the kitchen again to toss them in the washer. As he passes by to the stairs again, Dante gives Clear's hair another affectionate ruffle, noting the way Clear doesn't startle this time. 

They don't have any more to talk about. Anything Clear feels is up to him now, and all Dante can do is offer himself as an open ear when the kid finally decides to let his walls down. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not the only one who just thinks about random shit while masturbating right. This is a thing right. 
> 
> Anyway that was 11000% self-indulgent and honestly if no one ever reads this I'll understand why LOL But if you do, thank you so much haha I hope you enjoyed it in some way LOL


End file.
